DB: Bad Moon Rising
by dumbledearme
Summary: #2 "And when I extinguish you, I will cover the heavens and darken their stars; I will cover the sun with a cloud and the moon will not give its light." (Ezekiel 32:7) Like Grandpa Gohan would often say, "A man can't be perfected without trials." - Second part of the "Legend of the Seven Dragon Balls" series. -
1. The Double Life Of Launch

**This story follows right from where Journey To The West left of. I hope you guys like it. Let's welcome the new characters along with the old ones.**

 **"I see the bad moon rising. I see trouble on the way. I see earthquakes and lightnin'. I see bad times today. Don't go around tonight. Well, it's bound to take your life. There's a bad moon on the rise." Cleerance Clearwater Revival**

…...

She smiled, running her fingers through her freshly washed blonde hair, and stretching her freshly shaven legs out across the silk sheets. It had been a while since she'd stayed in a hotel this nice, a very long while and she was enjoying every minute of it. It wouldn't be long before the cops were at the door looking for her.

She turned on the television and sat up, holding her knees. The news reporter was talking about a robbery that had gone down last night. She smirked as she listened to the broadcast.

"The _Brown Country Bella_ struck a bank last night, completely cleaning it out of its entire vault. This is footage of the security cameras." She paused for a moment as a video of her blowing a kiss to the camera played on the screen. "If anyone has any information on her whereabouts they are strongly urged to contact the local authorities. The mayor of Brown Country is offering a substantial reward to anyone who can assist in the Bella's arrest."

She smirked and threw the blankets back climbing out of the bed. She enjoyed causing trouble. She'd been a hell raiser since the day she was born. But the smile vanished from her face when the loud pounding of the police sounded on the door.

"This is Brown Country P.D. You have thirty seconds to surrender."

She rolled her eyes. She started to pack up everything and quickly put her clothes on. There was only one way she was getting out of the room without the cops catching her and she didn't feel like being on the sixteenth floor in nothing but her underwear.

She grabbed her backpack full of money and her gun, and walked to the window that faced the city streets. She climbed out of the window and eased her way across the ledge and away from the room. There was a fire escape just around the corner she could climb down and run the two blocks to the alley where she'd parked her scooter.

When she reached the side of the building she carefully shimmied her body around the corner, turning so she was now facing the wall. She carefully stepped off the ledge and jumped the two feet to the fire escape. Then climbed down. She jumped the small gap between the end of the ladder and the ground and tore off running down the alley.

She only had two blocks to go and from the sounds of nothing behind her, the cops didn't even know she'd left the room yet. She started the scooter and pulled out into normal traffic. She laughed breathlessly, the wind in her hair. _This was the good life_.

That was the last thing that crossed her mind before she sneezed.

...

Roshi's island was just as Goku remembered. The pink shack was right at the center, the Kame House sign shining with the sun light. Goku climbed out of Kinto'un and ran to the front door. He knocked. Nobody answered.

Goku went inside all the same. The hall was nothing fancy. Goku could hear some noise coming from the living room. He headed there. The room was well decorated. There was a square collection of sofas and tables off to right and a big television set near the wall. Master Roshi was kneeling on the ground, his nose almost touching the TV screen.

"Okay, now spread those legs," the woman in the television was saying. She was working out, wearing very tight clothes. Roshi followed her movements, fascinated.

"1... 2... yes... and 1... and 2..." he repeated after her.

"Hey, master," called Goku.

"That's it... an' 1, an' 2... beautiful..."

Goku moved uncomfortably. "I said hey, master!" he repeated a little louder. Master Roshi kept his focus on the TV. "HEEEEERMIT!"

The shout echoed around the room, but Roshi didn't even flinch. He slowly tore his eyes from the screen and glanced at Goku. He grimaced. "Eesh, it's only you, lad. No need for shouting, I'm not deaf, you know."

Goku crossed his arms. "I came here like you said I should. So you can train me."

Roshi's eyes went back to the TV. "Whatever. Give me a minute."

"Well, I'm starving."

Roshi pointed left. "The kitchen is through there. Help yourself."

Joyfully, Goku headed the way Roshi had gestured. _Help yourself_ , he had said. Goku had every intention of doing just that.

…...

An hour later, Roshi's show came to an end and he remembered he had a guest. So he headed to the kitchen. It was mayhem. The fridge's door was open and there was nothing left inside. The cabinets were also empty. Goku sat at the dinner table surrounded by dirty plates, smashed food packaging and wafer bran.

"You ate – even the butter?" exclaimed Roshi. "A whole week's supply of food... What did you come here for, kid?"

Goku cleaned his mouth with the back of his hand. "To train," he muttered trying to suppress a burp.

Roshi examined Goku from top to bottom. "My training is awfully though, lad."

Goku considered that. "'Good pupils are to be brought up by strict teachers.'"

Roshi seemed surprised. "What?"

"Just something my grandpa used to say," shrugged Goku. "I just want to make him proud."

Roshi couldn't help but smile. "Yes, I understand. And I was the one who taught him that. All right, kid. But hear me out, a training like mine does not come free."

"I don't have any money."

"Neither do I, what's your point? No. Money doesn't interest those who have the power of mind and body. I require something else."

"Name it," said Goku quickly. "I'll do anything."

Roshi smiled. "Heroes... Always ready to make hasty promises. What I want from you, kid, is for you to bring me a _hottie_."

"A 'potty?'"

"A _hottie_! A pretty hot girl. Woman, actually... let's not do anything illegal, shall we? Heh heh. Anyhow, bring me a girl and you'll get all the training you can take."

Goku straightened up. "I just have to bring you a girl? That's easy."

"You understand what I'm asking here?" said Roshi carefully.

"Someone like... like Bulma?"

"Yes! Someone precisely like Bulma!" he confirmed happily. "But, kid, she needs to _want_ to come with you, you hear me? We can't take anyone against their will. A gentleman never imposes a lady anything. Remember that. Okay? Got it? Then off you go!"

Roshi led Goku outside. Goku called Kinto'un. Roshi frowned. "Didn't you use to have a tail?"

"Yeah... But I don't know where it went."

Roshi watched as Goku flew away. He shook his head. "Strange kid, this one."

…...

In western Brown Country the saloons were refined. The bartender prided himself on his appearance and his drink pouring abilities. She crossed the batwing doors and the cowboys stopped their game of pool to glance at her. She saw each one of them had their hands ready at their guns. She wasn't surprised. With _Brown Country Bella_ on the loose everyone had been jumpy.

When they realized she meant no harm, they returned to the game. The saloon was brightly illuminated and the air inside was cooler. She was thankful for that. The heat had been killing her, why, with her having to drag that awfully heavy backpack of hers, and she was dying of thirst.

"What a terrible heat," she told the bartender. He was a short rounded man with no hair at the top of his head. When he smiled, she saw he lacked a few of his teeth.

A handsome man stood by her side and eyed her with interest. "I'll pay for whatever the lady wants," he said. The bartender nodded.

"You're so very kind," she thanked him. "I'd like an orange juice, sir." She heard some laughing behind her, but she didn't mind. Laughing was a good thing, right? It meant people were happy. And she liked happy people.

"There you go, sweetheart." The bartender placed the glass in front of her and she sipped it gladly. The man had even added one of those cute tiny umbrellas just to please her. She smiled and drank some more. The umbrella rubbed her nose and it started to itch. She grimaced trying to hold it, but it was no good.

She sneezed.

"Bless you," said the handsome man. He ventured another glance to the pretty girl beside her and froze. The _Brown Country Bella_ pointed a gun at his face. The atmosphere in the room changed. Nobody dared move.

Then she started shooting. They had no chance.

After the killing, the Bella finished her juice and went outside. She could hear the sirens. She climbed her scooter and fled as the police started their chase. She asked her to pull over. They asked her extremely nicely. She hated nice.

She turned around and shot a few them down like dogs. Then she laughed maniacally. The rush was what she lived for. Her racing heart, the wind in her hair. Hair that stuck in her nostrils and made her sneeze.

She was so startled she crashed the scooter and went rolling across the asphalt. Her knees and elbows were bleeding. What had just happened? She was just having juice and then...

The policemen surrounded her, their guns at ready.

"Do not move!" one of them warned. " _Brown Country Bella_ , you are under arrest!"

She raised her hands in surrender. "I... I don't know what you're talking about, sir. Please... Why are you doing this to me?" Fear started creeping inside of her. What had she done?

"Don't try anything funny!" said the other policeman.

"But I – I didn't do anything," she said with little certainty. The policeman took a step toward her and she screamed. "HELP!"

She didn't really think anyone would come to her rescue. But a youth fell from the sky and landed protectively in front of her. He wasn't very tall, but strong-built. He had jet black hair, and he seemed not to care for it because it was spiked and tangled as if the boy had never been introduced to a hairbrush.

"Leave her alone," he told the police officers.

The guns moved from her to him. "Who are you?" one of the policeman demanded. "What do you want?"

"You may be a minor, but if you interfere we'll arrest you too!" the other warned.

The youth moved faster than she could've said ' _you're my hero_.' He knocked the gun out of the first policeman's hand and punched him so hard in the face the man fell backwards and didn't move again. The other tried to shoot him, but the youth – somehow – dodged his bullets. Then he knocked him out as well.

"Weaklings," he muttered. He glanced at her with kind black eyes. "Are you all right?"

She nodded. "Thank yo so much! You saved me from – from... How can I ever repay you?"

A faint smile crossed his face. "I think I know a way..."

…...

Goku was glad the girl could ride Kinto'un. That made the matters easier. She didn't ask him many questions on the way, she seemed relief to be leaving Brown Country behind. Goku wondered if master Roshi would like her. She did look quite nice. Her skin was pearl-white and her hair was indigo blue. Her eyes were the same color.

"What a beautiful house!" she exclaimed when they arrived at Roshi's island.

"I'm still getting used to the pink," he told her. "Oi! Master Roshi? Weird, he's not answering."

"He's probably in the lavatory," she guessed.

"The what?" Goku had never heard that word before.

She hesitated, unsure of what he was asking. "The – the toilet?"

Goku wasn't familiar with that either. He shook his head.

"Uh... The Loo? Wash room? Men's room? Bathroom?"

"Ah!" he said recognizing the last one. "What didn't you just say that?"

She looked around uncomfortably. "What is it you said you needed me here for?"

Goku shrugged. "Master Roshi wants a girl. Woman," he corrected.

She nodded. "Well, I'm being chased. So I'd better stay someplace isolated like this island."

"Why are you being chased?"

She ran her fingers through her blue hair. "I don't know," she confessed. "I think... I think there's something wrong with me. Sometimes I forget... I might've done some bad things."

"Like what?"

She shook her head distressed. "I don't know... I can't remember anything! Oh, maybe I shouldn't stay here. I'm – I'm very dangerous, I think."

"You don't look very dangerous to me," he told her inspecting her skinny arms and legs.

She was about to argue when Roshi stepped out of the house. He saw them at the porch and smiled widely. "You did good, Goku," he approved.

"So she _is_ pretty," said Goku. "I was afraid she wasn't."

"Oh, she is very pretty."

She reached out her hand. "I'm Launch," she said. "Your grandson saved me."

Roshi kissed her hand. There was a lot of tongue involved. "Did he? But he's not my grandson. I'm not that old, mind you. Heh heh... I'm Muten Roshi, my dear. And that is Goku. I'm teaching him the martial arts."

Launch beamed at Goku. "That's why he's so strong!"

"Precisely!" said Roshi. "I taught him everything he knows. The boy's very thankful to me-"

Goku butt in. "We haven't even started training yet."

"And you're already so skilled!" laughed Roshi. "That's how incredible I am! Anyway, darling Launch, I'd love for you to bathe with me. _Stay_! I said stay. I'd love for you to stay with me, yes."

"If it's no trouble..."

"None at all! You can always, always –"

Launch sneezed and suddenly she wasn't Launch anymore. She wore the same clothes, but everything about her was changed. She had now bright yellow hair and thin, cold, green eyes. Her face was slightly pointier and her stance was more confident. Her eyes went from Roshi to Goku and she drew a gun from her shorts. "Who are you? Where am I?"

Roshi and Goku exchanged a look.

"Did you-?"

"No!"

Roshi cleared his throat. "Are you – Are you still Launch?"

"What do you mean?" she growled. "I'm the one and only! I'm _Brown Country Bella_! Everyone knows me!"

"Well, you're not in Brown Country anymore," said Roshi carefully.

"I brought you here," added Goku. "So Roshi can have you. You said you didn't mind."

A vein twitched on her forehead. "So he can _have_ me?" she shouted.

"There's not what he meant!" said Roshi, but it was too late. She started shooting her gun everywhere, aiming anywhere. She went completely berserk. Goku knocked the gun off her hand like he had done with the police officer and pushed her down on the ground. She landed on her face on the sand and sneezed one more time.

The other Launch had returned. She struggled to her feet, rubbing her head. "Oww," she cried. "What happened?"

Goku and Roshi stared at each other wondering who'd have the honor of explaining things to her.


	2. The Turtle Hermit's Way

Roshi pressed a button by the side of the porch and his house turned into a _hoi-poi_ capsule. He picked it up. He asked Goku to take a step back and threw another capsule that shifted into a boat.

Goku frowned. "What are doing?"

"We're moving," explained Roshi. "Temporarily, of course. There's a bigger island South form here that'll be perfect for your training." Roshi helped Launch onto the boat and followed her. Goku climbed last. "We'd appreciate if you don't sneeze, my dear."

Launch cheeks turned red. She had taken the news about her split personality quite charmingly, but Goku could see she felt bad about everything the other Launch had done. More than once he imagined how dreadful it was for her to be unable to control herself, to have to share her body with someone she wasn't familiar with, someone she might not even like.

"Got it," she said breathing in the clear air to assure them her nose was clean.

Their journey lasted a few hours that Goku considered a waste. Kinto'un would've covered that distance in minutes. But when he said so, Roshi reprehended him. "This is not a race, Goku," said he. "It is not how fast you get where you want to go. Remember that."

This other island was indeed bigger and surrounded by large mountains. Each one of them had a perfect shape Goku recognized, but Roshi pointed one by one saying, Bell Mountain, Drum Mountain, Sword Mountain, Stamp Mountain and Flag Mountain."

But that was East. The whole West side of the island was covered with small houses and buildings of all shapes and sizes. "People live here?" asked Goku.

The master confirmed. "This is a three hundred population island." He turned the boat back into a _hoi_ - _poi_ capsule and turned his shack back into a shack. "Launch, dear, you can go do whatever you wish. Goku and I have business to attend to."

Launch looked excited. "I'd like to cook for you," she announced. "I can make the – AHHH – AHHH -"

"She'll sneeze!"

Launch yawned. "... uh, the supper," she finished. "Anyhow, good luck, boys!" She waved and walked into the Kame House.

"Let's begin then," said Roshi. "For starters, I suppose we better get to know each other and how much you can take. From this tree up to that rock is exactly... um, a hundred meters, I would say. Let's see how fast you can run that. Mind you, being fast does not make you a great martial artist. Remember what I told you. However, it does show how durable your legs and hips are. Understood?"

Goku nodded. "Yes."

"Yes what?"

Goku hesitated. "Yes... master?"

"Very good, Goku. From now on, that is all you are allowed to call me. Remember your manners." Roshi went to stand beside the rock and took a chronometer out of his pocket. "Ready?" he shouted.

"Yes, master."

"Go!" Goku ran to the rock. "Mm... 8.5 seconds."

"Is that good?" he panted.

"Very good indeed," praised the master. "You are quite impressive, Goku. But you're still on human level. A true martial artist must overcome this wall, which is, in fact, the hardest part. But we'll get there soon enough. Now, check my time." He handed Goku the chronometer and ran from the rock to the tree. "How did I do?" he asked.

"5.6 seconds!"

"Phew, I'm a little rusty. Anyways, with your youth and proper training you'll break my record easily. Now go get us a beer."

"What's that?"

"Hmm, you also need knowledge. That's one area we'll have to do some extra training for you. I'd better rush some things." He rubbed his hands together. "All right. Pay attention. There are four stages of training. Today we start the first one – the Sotapanna. This is the hardest one, Goku, and if you fail there'll be no point in trying to teach you any further."

"I'm ready, master."

Roshi looked up, the sun was already low in the sky. Roshi bent over and picked a rock from the ground. With a permanent black marker, he drew his symbol on the oval stone and showed it to Goku. "Look closely," he said. Goku's eyes followed the lines of the drawing carefully. Then Roshi threw the rock into the woods. "I want you to find that rock and bring it back to me, Goku."

Goku stared at the trees. "That's all?"

"Looking for something seems easy, doesn't it?" the master grinned. "But finding something unique in such a large place will require a lot of mental capacity, understanding and patience. You must bring it back to me before dinner, or you won't have any."

"What?"

"And, Goku, remember... It is not-"

"-how fast you get where you want to go. Got it, master."

Goku crossed the mountains and entered the woods. It was dark and cool in here. The trees made for the perfect roof and Goku couldn't even see the sky anymore. He ventured further, his eyes darting from one side to the other, trying to look everywhere at once, but he saw not a glimpse of the oval stone.

He reached a cliff and looked down. The forest continued down there. Goku took a deep breath and jumped. He outstretched his arms and felt the wind against him, giving him support. He was close to the ground when he spotted a nice strong branch of a tree. He held on to it, but the branch wasn't nearly as strong as he had anticipated and it broke with his weight. Goku fell on his butt.

He continued to search. He had to knock out a lion who tried to eat him. Then he found a triceratops lying on the ground. The dinosaur was quiet but breathing heavily. Goku approached slowly. Her eyes were open, big and hazel. She didn't look frightened, only pained. Then Goku saw why. Near her stomach there was a giant teeth piercing the dinosaur's hard skin. A blotch of blood surrounded the wound. Goku wondered what sort of animal could've done that.

Gracefully, Goku knelt beside the triceratops and placed his hand on her head. The animal moaned. Goku gave her as much comforting as he could.

"Kamisama, she comes before you in prayer and in faith, believing. Your word says that you desire all beings to be saved and come into the knowledge of truth. Ever, night and day, be at her side, to light and guard, to rule and guide. Watch over her."

When the triceratops stopped breathing, Goku closed her eyes. Then he stood. It was already very late. Goku looked around and his eyes widened when he saw the stone. He picked it up and turned it around – there was no drawing. But it looked just like the other.

A plan formed in his mind. Goku rushed back to the Kame House. He could hear Roshi and Launch in the kitchen. Goku searched several drawers until he found a permanent black marker. He tried his best to copy Roshi's symbol. The result was very good, he thought.

Goku marched into the kitchen grinning. "I've finally found it!" he panted. Roshi seemed surprised. Launch smiled.

"That was good," the master admitted. Goku handed him the rock. Roshi inspected and smiled as well. Then he threw the rock at Goku's head.

"Ouch!" exclaimed Goku.

"Did you think you could trick me? Go and find the real one, you useless lad!"

If Goku still had his tail, it would be between his legs. He turned around and headed back into the forest knowing it was useless. The night was pitch black now. He wouldn't be able to find his way back much less a small oval stone.

…...

The sun was rising when Goku gave up the chase. He dragged himself back to the shack just to find Roshi had locked the windows and doors. With a sigh, Goku let himself fall on the white porch and slept. What felt like two minutes later, Roshi poked him with his staff. Goku's eyes hurt as he opened them.

"Did you find the stone?" the master asked. Goku shook his head, too tired to speak. "Shame. Well, are you ready for today's training?"

Goku glanced at him like he was crazy. "Master, I-"

"Great!" said Roshi. "Before we start the way of the turtle, there are a few things that need to be said. Martial arts shall not be used to oppress others or impress girls. Martial arts are practiced to cleanse your body, strengthen mind and soul. But you can also use the martial arts to protect yourself and defend others from evil. Do you understand what I am saying, Goku?"

Goku's mind was spinning, but he was trying to stay focus on the master's words. Grandpa Gohan used to say things like this often. There was a saying he'd always repeat whenever Goku asked him why he fought: _a bird sings because it has a song_. Goku thought he understood what that meant.

"Yes, master," he answered. "You're saying we learn how to fight so we don't have to."

Roshi seemed incredibly pleased. "Precisely, lad. Precisely. Now, get up." Goku struggled to his feet. Roshi showed him how to do some dynamic stretches. "We use controlled leg movements to improve range of motion," he explained, "loosen up muscles and increase heart race, body temperature, and blood flow to help you run more efficiently."

"We're going for a run?" shrieked Goku.

"Oh, you have no idea," chuckled Roshi. "But we'll start with a morning walk. It's the ideal low-intensity activity to ease your body out of sitting mode and into workout mode. I believe that's exactly what you need right now, judging by the way you look, lad. The motions of walking takes the muscles, tendons, and joints through a range of motion that's similar to what it will go through in running. Not only will it bring up the temperature of the muscles and the core, but it'll enhance the blood flow and send your brain the message that it's time to get a move on!"

The walk lasted about an hour. The sun was still rising when they reached the edge of town. Roshi led Goku through a bunch of farms until he found the one he was looking for. An elderly goat answered the door bell.

"Hello," said Roshi. "I called yesterday, good sir. I'm Muten Roshi."

The goat was pleased. "Oh, yes, sir. It was very nice of you." He reached into a pocket of his overwalls and handed Roshi a small black covered book. "These are the addresses."

Roshi bowed to him. "Thank you. Here, Goku." He pointed to a truck to their right. "You'll take these boxes and you'll deliver 'em."

"He'll do the entire route on foot?" exclaimed the goat. "This has to be delivered before eleven o'clock, sir!"

"And so it shall be," promised Roshi. "Come on, Goku. The first house is a mile and a half away."

"Excuse me, master," interjected Goku out of breath. "What does delivering milk have to do with martial arts?"

Roshi thought about it. "I don't know," he replied. "Maybe it has to do with having the discipline of doing what you're told."

Goku had no words for the despair he felt. He was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open. His muscles were screaming, his legs protesting. Still, he grabbed the first box and did as his master ordered him.

When there was only one box left, Goku was about to pass out from exhaustion. Roshi let him drink a lot of water, but that didn't help much. The last deliver was to be made to a man who lived on the top of Bell Mountain.

Goku said a silent prayer and started climbing the stairs. But he was halfway through when he felt his legs give in under him. Goku fell backwards and almost broke the milk bottles. He moaned and tried to get to a sitting position.

Master Roshi watched him expressionless. "Oh, my. Looks like we've reached a limit."

Goku breathed heavily. "I can't," he admitted. "I'm sorry, master. I just can't take another step."

"There's a man up there," said Roshi. "A man that'll be without his milk if you don't."

"Can I- Maybe I could finish it with Kinto'un?"

Roshi raised an eyebrow. "I suppose you could. But then again, Goku, what sort of challenge would that be?"

Goku shook his head, defeated. "None."

"There are many ways to the top of the mountain. But the view is the same. Do you know what that means?"

Goku thought about it. "It means I can chose which way to go and what I'll learn."

"Exactly. But before you choose, a few words of advice. Gohan and Gyumaoh used to climb this mountain every day they stayed with me. And not once, Goku, did they ever complained."

Goku felt ashamed. His grandpa had done that whilst Goku was on the ground counting his blessings. This was not the way to make him proud. This was not what he had thought Goku. _Failure is not falling down but refusing to get up,_ he heard his grandpa's voice in his head. Resigned, Goku grabbed the last box of milk bottles and stood up. He firmed his shaking legs on the ground.

"I'll meet you at the top, master," he said before resuming his climbing.

The man on the top of the Bell Mountain was short and round and bald. He had a very amusing mustache and he sat on a rock smoking a pipe. He greeted Goku with a polite wave of his pale hand.

"Good morning, sir."

Roshi appeared behind Goku. "Long time, no see, eh?"

The old man smiled. "How are you, Kamesennin? You seem very healthy, as usual. Is that your new disciple? Didn't know you're training new ones."

"I'm not," said Roshi. "This is an extraordinary exception. Gohan's grandson, would you believe it?"

The old man's face brightened. "Ahhh... Old Gohan was a good lad, wasn't he? Hope your boy is ready by the next Budokai. Just like Gohan was, remember?"

"Like it was yesterday," said Roshi. "And he will be."

"What's a Budokai?" asked Goku.

Roshi studied him slowly before answering. "A martial arts tournament," he said, "where only the very best compete."

"Awesome."

The old man nodded. "It originated in a festival held since long ago at the temple which now serves as the tournament grounds. It occurs every three years. Besides the title of Wold Martial Arts Champion, the winner of the Budokai receives the considerable amount of 500,000 Zeni as a prize."

"I never quite understood why the prize was money," commented Roshi. "A real martial artist doesn't concern himself with something so... humane."

"I often found," said the old man, "that the one who usually wins the Budokai, is the one who wants the money the least. Haven't you?"

Roshi smiled. "Amen."

"So you'll let me compete?" asked Goku.

"Perhaps."

"Can I rest now?"

Roshi stared at Goku with amusement. "Listen, boy. This milk delivering will go on for the next eight months, so get used to it."

"All right."

"And this was the morning training, Goku. Now let's prepare for the afternoon."

"Wait... WHAT?"


	3. The Four Stages Of Attainment

**I just want you guys to know I worked so damn hard in this chapter. I spent days researching Chinese legends, prayers, lessons. I learned a whole bunch of cool things, some things that couldn't fit into this story, which was a shame really. Anyway, I hope the result is good.**

…...

The only good part of living with the master was that, upon seeing Goku's struggle, Roshi asked Launch to prepare him a great buffet. The rest was torture.

That afternoon, Roshi took Goku to an open green field that belonged to an old farmer. There was nothing but grass for miles and miles around. It was very beautiful there, but Goku prepared himself for the worst. Unlike him, the farmer seemed very happy.

"You're going to work this soil," Roshi told Goku.

"Farming?" Goku found that odd, but assumed there was a point to it, like the milk delivering.

The farmer thanked them one more time and handed Goku a hand tiller. "No, no," said Roshi. "No tools, my good sir. He has to work with his hands to build up his strength and resilience."

Goku stared at his own hands. His palms seemed paler just at the thought. The farmer agreed reluctantly and went away.

"When ploughing is done correctly," said Roshi, "the field is maintained level and the whole surface is cultivated. A poor ploughing pattern however will give rise to an uneven surface. So clear away the surface trash, fill in any deep holes and remove unnecessary obstacles. The direction of ploughing should follow the longest side of the field. Conventional ploughing is carried out in working strips with a width of up to 25 meters. You know, Shennong, the Emperor of the Five Grains invented the plow. Do him proud."

Roshi followed the farmer into the house and Goku was left alone in the green field. He started digging.

When Roshi returned the field looked perfect. "Nice, Goku," he praised. "Shujun would be pleased."

"Shujun? I thought it was Shennong."

"So you were listening," the master chuckled. "Shujun was the god of farming. Now come with me." Roshi led Goku to a river. "Stick your hands in, lad."

Goku did as he was told. His hands ached like you wouldn't believe. His palms were cut, some of his fingernails had fallen out and his finger were stiff.

"We can rest here for a while," said Roshi. "Then you swim."

Goku looked up. "Swim?" He liked to swim. It had been one of the first things Grandpa Gohan had taught him. The water always reinvigorated Goku. More than once, he wondered if that had anything to do with his parents.

A wave of grief hit Goku like a wrecking ball. Suddenly his hands didn't hurt anymore. He let himself fall backwards and stared at the sky. He was vaguely aware of Roshi's eyes on him. "Master? You once said Grandpa mentioned me to you. Did he say anything else? About who I am, I mean."

Goku waited for what felt like a hundred years. "He said he found you. Isn't that what he told you?"

Goku nodded. "Yes. But... where did I come from? Why wasn't I wanted?" he tried to disguise the hurt in his voice. He knew martial artist probably didn't cry about their parents to their master. But Goku couldn't help it.

Roshi sat down by the river and lighted a pipe. "Tell me, Goku. Do you know of the _Legend of the White Snake_?" Goku nodded. It had been one of Grandpa Gohan's favorites. "Then tell it to me."

Goku swallowed trying to see what one thing had to do with the other. "Uh, two immortals fell in love," he remembered. "They were banished from heaven because their love was forbidden. They were reincarnated as male human and a female snake. The lady loved the man so very much that over the years she learned to transform herself into a beautiful young woman and went out to find him."

Roshi seemed amused. "Yes, Gohan has always favored this version of the story."

"What do you mean?"

Roshi let some smoke out of his nose. "When I was a young lad, the tale was quite different. It wasn't a story about a love forbidden by the laws of nature. It was the tale of how a young man was seduced by an evil demoness. Nobody knows when the story came to be or when it was changed. Why was she so powerful and yet couldn't control her own emotions? Her animal passion consumed her and stopped her from being normal, which she so craved. Was love the source of her strength or her weakness?"

"I don't understand what you're saying, master."

"I guess I'm saying it doesn't matter. Either way. What made her who she is, what changed her. None of that is why her story is still known, still told. Am I right to assume your grandpa has told you a lot of stories?" Goku nodded again. "Has he ever told you why they're important? Why I've told him so many of them myself?"

Goku recalled as if it were yesterday. He recited like Gohan had told him, word by word. "Grandpa said these stories answer timeless questions and serve as compass to each generation. He said they are cultural collective wisdom that illustrates the universality of good and evil, justice and injustice, life and death, across culture and time and act as both warning and promise."

"I couldn't have said it better myself," said Roshi kindly. "Think it with me, kid. Stories encapsulate the legacies of cultural heroes and demons as well as enduring social and moral teachings of their time. They explain the world and the human experience. They provide us with subtle suggestions on how to cope in difficult time, and in their symbolism we find encouragement and hope, examples of how to persevere and overcome, and guidance through the consequences of our choices. It is a very powerful thing, a simple tale."

That reminded Goku of something else his grandpa had told him. _Everything is a parable, Goku, a lesson, to teach courage and perspective, to give comfort an hope._

"Now I ask you, does their unknowable origin diminish their value or their cultural importance?"

Goku thought about that, Roshi's words ringing in his head – _What made her who she is, what changed her. None of that is why her story is still known, still told._ "No," he said softly.

"Right you are, Goky. Their lineage and legacy through thousands of years and cultures testify to their resilience and ability to tell us more about our world and ourselves. The unidentifiable origin and malleability are the very qualities that have helped the story survive over centuries."

"What does that have to do with me, though?"

"I think that you are extraordinary, Goku," said Roshi and that was an incredible amount of fondness in his voice that made Goku's eyes sting. "One day they'll tell stories about you. And no one will care where you came from or why your parents gave you up. They will remember that you were raised by a great martial artist and they will recount your good deeds in this world."

Goku couldn't have expected a better answer. He felt a sudden warm in his chest. Roshi was right. None of that mattered. Who he was had nothing to do with who he had been born as. And it would change, again and again, until he'd been perfected like his grandpa.

"Thank you, master."

"You are quite welcome, my lad. Now, a last question. Have you noticed something in common about the tasks I've been giving you?"

Goku tried to see what farming and delivering milk had to do with each other, aside from being boring. Then he realized. _If you always give, you'll always have_. "We've been helping people," he answered. "We helped that old goat and the farmer. And we gave people their milk."

Roshi stood up. "I believe you've passed to the next level. Welcome to Sakadagami, where there is no place for self importance, clinging and doubt. Enjoy your swim and be back for dinner or you'll have none."

…...

The first task of the second level was mayhaps the worst. Roshi tied Goku to a tree and poked a bee hive. "So you can learn to dodge attacks in a small perimeter," he said. "Improve your reflexes. Avoid being stung."

Easy to say, impossible to perform.

The furious bees began to buzz around him. A stabbing pain shot through his left hand. Goku moved as swiftly as he could, but there wasn't much he could do, tied to the tree. The rope only stretched so far, and it was by no means far enough.

He felt a second sting on the cheek, a third on his neck. He could feel the lumps forming. He tried to kill some of them but it was impossible without being stung.

That seemed to go on for hours. Half the bees were dead, half flew away. Roshi untied Goku and gave him a medicine to put on his skin. "Have you learned anything?"

Goku felt the relief of the medicine. "Never mess with bees?"

Roshi shook his head. "Small as it is, the bee has all the vital organs."

"What does that mean?" growled Goku, suddenly not interested in Roshi's wisdom.

"It means, lad, that all lives matter. And they'll defend themselves with all they got."

…...

The next day, Goku was awake even earlier – it was still night. "What the-?"

"Come on, Goku," called Roshi. "The early bird catches the worm!"

In the living room, Goku found a gift waiting for him. His very own purple turtle hull.

"You'll wear this every minute of the day from now on," said Roshi. "You may take it off to sleep. This will add 40 pounds to your every day tasks."

Goku grimaced. "When are you going to teach me your secret techniques?" he mumbled. "I'm ready."

A shadow crossed Roshi's face. "You're only ready if I say you're ready."

"And when will that be? After months of delivering milk?" Goku would've said more but he held his tongue when he saw his master's expression.

" _Da Mo responded that he would teach Shen Guang when red snow fell from the sky_. You can't even control your own temper, lad. A martial artist must master his own body and mind. You are not there yet." Goku kept his mouth shut and put on the turtle hull. "That's what the Sakadagami will do for you. Times are difficult, Goku, and hard work is necessary. What you learn from my teachings is entirely up to you."

Goku nodded quietly.

"Let's go outside. Today you're gonna dig me a well."

"A well?"

" _On this Drum Mountain Da Mo dug a well. The water of this well was bitter. Da Mo then left Shen Guang on the Drum Mountain. For an entire year, Shen Guang used the bitter water of the well to take care of all of his needs. He used it to cook, to clean, to bathe, to do everything._ For a month that's what you'll do as well."

Goku felt his shoulders slump but he knew he had no choice. _Grandpa is watching_ , he reminded himself. _He will be proud of me_. So he went outside and by the Drum Mountain he dug a well. The water he found wasn't as bad as he had expected. Roshi made him live with that water only until the month had come to an end.

"Da Mo made Shen Guang dig several wells, you know?" said Roshi. "And after all the digging was done, Shen Guang realized that the four wells represented his life. Like the wells, his life would sometimes be bitter, sometimes sour, sometimes spicy and sometimes sweet. Each of these phases in his life was equally beautiful and necessary, just as each of the four seasons of the year is beautiful and necessary in its own way. Without really saying many words to Shen Guang, Da Mo had taught Shen Guang the most important of lessons."

Goku was left in awe for the master. For a bad pervert, the turtle hermit seemed to know a lot. Goku wondered how old Roshi really was.

…...

Five months went by after that. Roshi's training got harder and harder, but Goku got stronger and stronger. He soon grew used to the training and it started to require less and less of his emotional distress. He didn't feel like Roshi was punishing him anymore. He didn't resent the work he had to do.

"That is why you've passed yet another level of my training," said Roshi when Goku told him that. "The third part, the Anagami, doesn't allow ill-will. Your mind needs to be pure. Thoughts connected to greed, hatred and delusion, must never arise."

"What will I do today?" Goku asked. He was feeling so good. He assumed it had something to do with the pure mind and everything else. He felt cleansed and relaxed.

"Let's go back to Da Mo," said Roshi. "When he was nearing the location of the Shaolin Temple, the Shaolin monks had heard of his approach and were gathered to meet him. When Da Mo arrived, the Shaolin monks greeted him and invited him to come stay at the temple. Da Mo did not reply but he went to a cave on a mountain behind the Shaolin Temple, sat down, and began meditating. Da Mo sat facing a wall in the cave and meditated for nine years. After some time, Da Mo's concentration became so intense that his image was engraved into the stone of the wall before him."

"I'll have to face a wall for nine years?!"

Roshi laughed and shook his head. "No. For nine hours a day, Goku."

"Until when?"

"Until I say it's enough," shrugged Roshi. "Now, the rules. It has to be inside the Sword Mountain. You cannot lean over nothing, nor lie down. You need to sit with your back upright. Eyes closed or open, you pick. You may not speak the entire time you're in there, nor eat or drink, or focus on anything else but the wall before you. Is that understood?"

Goku nodded already bored out of his mind.

"Then you may go."

…...

Another month went by until Roshi decided Goku would never have to see the inside of Sword Mountain again. That gave a boost to Goku's mood. He had been dreaming of the rocky wall now every night. He thought he would lose his mind.

A day came when Roshi gave Goku leave to rest or do whatever he wished. "No training today," he said. "Your official day off."

Goku thought about that. The master seemed to be resigned to lie on a net and daydream. Launch was planting a garden near the five mountains. What should Goku do? He didn't feel like staying still. He had worked hard for a long time, being idle was no longer in his nature.

Making up his mind, he went to the woods where he looked and looked all day until he finally found the oval shaped stone with the hermit's mark on it. He brought it back with a smile on his face. The master couldn't believe it.

"Well done, Goku. Well done. I guess this officially brings you to Arhat, the fourth and last level of training. All conceit, restlessness and ignorance were left behind. Like Guanyin, you've been perfect. You know, she vowed never to rest until she had freed all sentient beings from reincarnation. Despite strenuous effort, she realized that there were still many unhappy beings yet to be saved. And after struggling to comprehend the needs of so many, her head split into eleven pieces."

"Whoa," said Goku.

"Whoa, indeed. Filled with compassion, she returned to Earth, vowing never to leave till such time as all suffering has ended. Thanks to her endurance of all indignities and her spirit of self-sacrifice, she could enter into Nirvana and became Goddess of Mercy."

"Is that my next lesson?" asked Goku, interested. "How to be merciful?"

Roshi studied Goku with kind eyes. "I have nothing else to teach you, lad."

Goku's jaw fell. "What?"

"My methods, Goku, are basically the training you've been doing. Without even realizing it, you got the whole basis of my teaching. The rest if just an extension of what you know. It will come to you in time."

"I don't get it."

Roshi smiled. "The purpose of martial arts is to make body and soul become one. The Sotapanna made you stop worrying about who you are and focus on what you can become. The Sakadagami vanquished your anger and your resentment toward the hardships I was putting you through. And the Anagami reminded you that strength of body hardly matters if you don't possess strength of mind. Now, your inspiration should not be winning the Budokai Tenkaichi, but to get an experience with the struggles that you'll live. So until the tournament, you'll keep on doing what you've been doing, except the Arhat allows you complete freedom to train as you like."


	4. The World Martial Arts Tournament

**Hope you guys have missed Bulma ;)**

...

The Capsule Corporation was right at the center of West City. It was the biggest building in that area. It gave room for the entire company's system, the Brief family and all of Dr Brief's endeavors, like the Atrium where the animals lived. Up the third level, right next to the East Tower, was a workout room where Bulma had practiced the martial arts.

Since they'd returned together, Bulma was now accompanied by Yamcha in all of her sessions. They sworn this would be a serious business, that they would work hard and help each other get stronger in order to compete in the next Budokai Tenkaichi. But somehow they always ended up making out on the ground.

Today, they were trying harder to keep their hands off each other. As usual, Bulma was kicking his ass. She knew she was extremely good at this, but so was Yamcha. She couldn't help the feeling he was holding back and that angered her. It made her want to hit him harder just to see how much he would take before he hit back.

Oolong and Puar were watching them secretly. They often came to watch them train and then they would leave when they started kissing.

"Yamcha will surely win this tournament," said Puar watching Yamcha's swift movements.

"I don't see why," said Oolong. "Bulma's crushing him!"

As if on cue, Bulma grabbed Yamcha's wrist and flipped him over her shoulder. Yamcha slammed onto the ground with a moan. Bulma put her knee on his chest and pushed her forearm against his throat. The look on his face was enough to turn her on, but Bulma tried to keep her shit together. "Do you surrender?"

"To you? Yes!"

She laughed. But they weren't going to make out today. _Not today,_ she told herself over and over. Bulma rose and helped him to his feet. Damn, she wanted to kiss him so badly but she managed to restrain herself.

"He's holding back, clearly," whispered Puar.

Oolong sneered. "Again, I don't see why. He should kick her hot butt! She gets more and more spoiled every day."

"He won't let her win when the time comes," said the blue cat.

"No?" asked the pig unsure. "Let's hope not."

…...

Roshi convinced Goku to entered the airplane. He said it'd perfectly safe. Goku wasn't so sure. He'd preferred to ride Kinto'un.

Roshi had left Launch in charge of the Kame House. She seemed happy about it and even wished Goku the best of lucks. Before leaving the shack, Roshi gave Goku yet another gift – the Turtle Hermit's disciple's uniform. The orange gi fit Goku perfectly. It was light and soft. It came with blue training shoes, a blue belt and blue wristbands. Goku was also advised to wear a common navy T-shirt under it to adhere his sweat. On the back and above the heart, it featured the Kamesennin's symbol.

Goku sat by the window and was able to see the whole world turn a combination of blue, green and white. He watched the clouds soar pass them and smiled. This wasn't so bad after all.

A woman came their way, she seemed to work inside the airplane. "Would you care for some coffee or juice?" she offered.

The strangest expression came upon Roshi's face. "When you're already so juicy?" he said. The woman did not look pleased. "Heh heh... No, thank you, dear."

She walked away and didn't offer them anything else during the rest of the flight.

…...

The streets of Papaya Island were packed with people and they all seemed to be headed to the same direction. Goku and Roshi followed the flow until the reached a main street in front of the Budokai Tenkaichi's temple. It was the most beautiful thing Goku had ever seen.

"All competitors, please, report to the front desk for registration," said a monk with a megaphone.

There was a short monk at the registration table. They headed there. Goku was made to sign his name. Thank Kami, Grandpa Gohan had insisted on him learning how to read and write. "Are you sure?" asked the monk.

"Yeah!" Goku glanced at Roshi. "I mean, yes, sir."

"Goku!"

He heard his name being called and turned around. Bulma and Yamcha came toward him. Goku noticed they were holding hands. They seemed much more at ease with each other. That made him smile. Oolong and Puar came after them.

Bulma engulfed Goku in a tight embrace. "I've missed you, Monkey Boy!" She looked just as he remembered. She was dressed all in black which made her skin seem whiter. Her turquoise hair was in a neat ponytail.

Yamcha came forward and shook Goku's hand. He, on the other hand, had changed drastically and Goku wondered if Bulma was to blame. Yamcha's onyx black hair was short and untangled; he didn't look as wild as he had when they'd met. His clothes were much simpler, though he still used the green uniform with the symbol of whoever his master had been.

"I almost didn't recognize you," jested Goku. "Where did you hair go?"

Yamcha blushed and confirmed Goku's early thoughts. "Bulma cut it."

"Yes, I did," she said. "I admit the whole _Bandit of the Desert_ thing worked for me back then, but here in town we needed to take some measures to fit in with society."

Goku laughed. "How have you been?"

"We've been all right," said Oolong trying to sound modest. "You should see Bulma's place! It's unbelievable. Ten mouths and I still can't go around without getting lost at least once a day."

"That's because you're too dumb to read the wall signs," she bickered. "Now tell me you're here for the Budokai."

"I'm here for the Budokai," said Goku.

"And he's all signed up." Roshi stepped forward. "Hello, Bulma. Long time. Still beautiful, I see."

"Master Roshi," she greeted looking pleased. "Tell me, have you moved? I stopped by some time ago and your house wasn't at the island."

"We've been training in a bigger island," he told her. "But we'll soon return to the old one. More privacy, mind you."

"We should hang out tonight," invited Yamcha. "There's a restaurant somewhere inside. All you can eat buffet."

"You had me at restaurant," said Goku.

…...

The Dining Hall was just as fancy as the rest of the temple. Yamcha, Bulma, Goku, Oolong and Puar sat around a round table. The restaurant was full and Goku assumed it was because it was raining outside. Or it might've been the free food.

"I'm glad it's raining," commented Yamcha. "Means bright sun in the morning."

Bulma disagreed. "Not necessarily. It could go on forever."

"Where is master Roshi?" asked Goku.

They all looked around. "For a moment, I could've sworn that was him," said Bulma pointing to a man who looked almost identically to master Roshi except he had silver hair and a fabulous white beard.

"No, that's Jackie Chun," said Puar. They all stared at him. "What? I hear things. They say he hasn't competed for years. They say he's the greatest to ever participate of the Budokai."

"And who's that?" said Oolong disgusted. A giant pterodactyl-like monster beast entered the Dining Hall and headed straight to the bar.

"That's a Giras," said Bulma wisely. "It's a sort of race. They are everywhere nowadays. I think they're strong."

The Giras leaned over the balcony and asked the bartender for some milk. A few of the others near the bar laughed shamelessly. The bartender served the Giras.

There was a group of man wearing yellow gis; they were the ones laughing. One of them nudged the other and said loudly, "The Giras wants milk!"

"What a wimp," said the other.

A third one stepped forward. "Don't pretend you can't hear us, prick!"

The mutant pterodactyl finished his glass of milk. "Bartender, fill me up." As the other three laughed, the Giras turned around in one quick movement and punched the first one in the face. As the man fall backwards, the Giras kicked another on the stomach, then grabbed one of the benches and hit the third one in the head. Not satisfied, the monster moved as if to break the man's neck, when Yamcha stood up and called, "Hey! Enough is enough."

The Giras turned toward him. "Who the hell are you?"

"We're not supposed to fight here," said Yamcha calmly.

The Giras came his way. "Prepare to die!"

"Enough!" Jackie Chun's voice shut everyone up. Nobody dared move. "Fighting outside the arena is against the rules," he said knowingly. "Another move and I'll report you all."

"I don't care about your rules, grandpa," growled the beast.

"You surely must care about the money prize or yo wouldn't be here," pointed out Jackie Chun.

The Giras stared at him for long three minutes, then hesitantly turned and left the Dining Hall.

…...

Goku, Roshi, Bulma, Yamcha, Oolong and Puar headed through the crowd the next day.

"I hate crowds," mumbled Bulma as they crossed the Budokai's gates.

"Are they all fighting?" asked Goku.

"No," she said. "Most of them are here to watch."

Roshi stopped on his tracks. "I can't go any further. The eight finalists will face off in front of the public. I'll be watching you, Goku. Do me proud. Honor your uniform. Everything will be okay."

"Okay, master." Goku bowed to him. "Thank you."

"Good luck, Yamcha," said Puar. He and Oolong wouldn't be going in either.

Yamcha, Bulma and Goku went inside. The preliminaries grounds was located in the back of the temple's main building. It was an enormous room filled with two separated rings. All the fighters were stretching and preparing themselves. Some stared as they went by. They were the youngest people there.

One bald monk who obviously worked there stepped into a ring holding a microphone. "Attention, please," he called. "The elimination rounds are about to begin. But first I want to welcome all of you to our two hundred and twenty first World Martial Arts Tournament. Rules of the Budokai: if your opponent falls out of the ring or have any body part touching the ground outside the ring, he'll be eliminated. The same for those who weep. It is strictly forbidden to kill your opponent and/or use any weapons or instruments of defense. Every fight of the elimination rounds lasts only a minute each. You'll be divided into four groups from which two finalists will be left. Let's label them now."

He gestured toward a big box to the left. Everyone went there to take a small ball with a number marked on it.

"I'm 93," said Bulma. "What'd you guys get?"

"Seventy," said Goku.

"So you're both in block three," said Yamcha. "But I don't think you'll be fighting together."

"What number are you?" asked Goku.

"35," he said. "Block two."

"Is that good?"

"Actually, yes. I didn't want to be in the same block as you."

"Why not?"

"Because," said Yamcha with a grin, "later on the ring is much bigger and there's no time limit to stop us. We'll be able to really show our strength."

Bulma grimaced. "Yeah, yeah, boys will be boys. Am I the only one who's here to kick some asses and feel wicked?"

…...

So Goku won his first match in less than ten seconds. People said his opponent simply lost balance and fell. Goku wasn't so sure. He stared at his own hands and wondered if Roshi's rough training hadn't made him stronger than he realized.

Bulma had a real good time beating up her opponent. The guy seemed to be drunk and all he wanted to do was touch her breasts. She taught him a lesson all right.

Yamcha also won his match superbly. None of them were really concern about winning, it seemed simply inevitable.

Later on, they were conducted to the contestants' room where they were supposed to wait their turn to fight. Goku and Yamcha stood in one corner whilst Bulma was near the window staring at her own reflection. Jackie Chun was there, but he was busy following a purple haired lady. The Giras was – unfortunately – there, and so was a skinny Indian man, who spent the entire time meditating.

Goku eyed Yamcha with interest. "So..." he began. "You and Bulma, eh?"

Yamcha's face turned the same color as the hair of the woman running from Jackie Chun. "Don't talk about things you don't understand," he said.

"Contrary to popular belief," said Bulma, "I am not deaf. Stop talking about me like I can't hear you."

A very large muscular man with dark skin, long unkempt black hair, a bushy black beard, and a hairy chest walked right beside them. He wore a pair of onyx-colored tights and black boots. But what shocked them the most was the smell that followed him.

Goku gagged. "Nasty!"

"Who the hell is that?" asked Bulma trying desperately to open the window.

"I have a very sensitive nose," said Goku.

"Like dogs?"

Goku shrugged.

The monk from before appeared. "What is this smell...? Oh. All right. Uh, the judges have made the selection. When I call your names I'd like for you to stand up. Number one – Miss Briefs."

"I'm everyone's number one," said Bulma standing up.

"Number two – Bacterian." The stinky man stood. Bulma grimaced. "Number three – Yamcha. Number four – Mr Chun. Number five – Miss Ranfan. Number six – Nam." The Indian man stood up swiftly. "Number seven – Giran." The Giras got to his feet. "And number eight – Son Goku. Get ready people."

…...

The sky was bright blue, the weather couldn't be better. There were all sorts of people sitting on the bleachers, cheering. They were young, old, children. Entire families.

Stephen took another look at the mirror. It was the same every time. From a very young age he had started announcing the Budokai Tenkaichi and all because he couldn't compete like his father wanted him to. Stephen wasn't a fighter though he knew a whole lot about it. But studying wasn't the same as doing it and he'd much rather perform for the cameras.

He looked good in the black tuxedo his assistant had chosen for him. He wore a white shirt that made him look sophisticated and a blood red tie as the final touch. He knew it would be sunny outside so he wore dark sunglasses. People worship who wore sunglasses. It made them mysterious as shit. Stephen thought it was the right look for him.

He cleared his throat and drank a lot of water. He'd be doing a lot of screaming out there. Speaking of which, he could already hear the cheering. How he loved that sound. He lived for the way people screamed and cheered. He lived for the applause.

With a smile, he grabbed his microphone and headed outside. He stepped on the ring and waved pretending they had all come to see him.

"Ladies and gentlemen," he started, "get ready! That's right, people! It is time for the World Martial Arts Tournament! The first match will begin, but before we get things fired up, let me remind you that the winner of this Budokai Tenkaichi shall receive a prize of 500,000 Zeni! That is right! Better than what I am paid," he joked. He was paid _a lot_. "Now, without further ado, let's receive here participants number one and two!"


	5. The Weeping Angel -- The Crying Wolf

As Bacterian walked up to the ring the entire crowd gasped and wrinkled their noses. Stephen held his nose and cursed silently. "Could you step back, sir?" he asked as nicely as he could.

Following Bacterian came Bulma, keeping a certain distance and not bothering to disguise her disgust. She stood on the ring with her head held high, the picture of sophisticated grace. Her eyes sparkled playfully and she looked comfortable with the thousands of people staring at her.

The crowd seemed torn between booing and not breathing.

"All right," said Stephen standing as far away from Bacterian as he could still standing on the ring. "I have here with me someone all of you should probably know!" he smiled at Bulma who ignored him. "The one and only, much more beautiful in person, Miss Bulma Briefs, ladies and gentlemen! The only heir of Capsule Corporation! Her father has been a great supporter of the martial arts and granted us with several donations to make the Budokai Tenkaichi possible. Yes, yes. And to my left, we have Bacterian, the man who's never showered in his life. Not once! As you can well smell it."

A monk bang the gong. Bulma was about to start the fight when Bacterian opened his mouth and blow air toward her. She gagged. Bulma backed away, turned around and fell on her knees trying to control her bile. Curse the power bars she had eaten before the fight. They were trying hard to come back up.

"Miss Briefs is down!" shouted the announcer. _Congratulations for saying the obvious,_ Bulma thought.

She tried to focus on something else but his scent was everywhere. She heard him fart; he was closer than she had thought. _Are you kidding me_ , she tried to say, but she was afraid to open her mouth. Then she felt it – a throbbing pain in her stomach where the disgusting giant kicked her. Bulma rolled over on her back and stared at the sky.

"That was a sensational fart!" said Stephen, the announcer. "Bacterian is truly a master at this! It doesn't look like Miss Briefs will be getting up after that!" He started to count. Bulma watched Bacterian approach and knew he was going to crush her.

 _Now, wait a minute,_ said a voice inside her head. _What are you doing? Why are you lying on the ground? Get up, Bulma. Get up! You are not getting defeat in front of thousands of people by a stupid giant with mucus running from his nose!_

Bulma watched Bacterian approached and at the last minute she kicked him in the balls. The giant hunched over and moaned. Bulma maneuvered to her feet. With a swift movement, she took off her black t-shirt revealing her flat stomach and a very expensive sports bra. She heard the crowd suddenly cheering. Bulma wrapped the t-shirt around her face and was finally able to steady her breathing.

Now, focused on the fight, she turned off everything that was happening around her, she was even able to block the smell. There was only her and an overly grown baby with saliva running from his mouth. She stared at him and he stared back and smiled, and she saw he was missing several of his teeth. Typical, she attracted freaks of nature, didn't she?

Bulma parted her legs and raised her fists. She knew she must've looked pretty small beside Bacterian but she didn't care. When had that ever been a problem? She was fast. She had quick, effective kicks and strikes. She had everything under control.

Bacterian came forward purposely breathing with his mouth open. Bulma performed a kartwheel and kicked Bacterian in the face. She saw a tooth flying sideways and grinned. _Another one_. She doubt he would miss it. While he was stunned, she grabbed Bacterian by the shoulders and kneed him in the stomach. She then spun around and flipped him over her shoulder.

The giant fell down with an stupendous thud. He did not get up.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa," shouted Stephen. "That's what I call a radical turn of events!" He stepped forward to congratulate Bulma but she refused to take his hand.

"I need to wash these first," she said waving her hands in the air with disgust.

"Okay. Miss Briefs is looking a little green but I am sure she is going to be okay. A round of applause for our winner!"

The crowd roared and Bulma smiled pleased. _That's what she was talking about._

…...

Ranfan was near the door of the room for the contestants. It had been fairly easy to get there. A few kicks on the groin when necessary, but mostly bending over to reveal the large pair of breasts through her neckline. Men were so easy.

Of course being beautiful wasn't always a blessing. Sometimes she wished men wouldn't notice her curves. Like right now, for example. Ever since they were proclaimed quarter-finalists, the weird old man – Jackie Chun, he called himself –, wouldn't leave her alone. He followed her around like a hungry puppy and no matter how rude Ranfan was to him he just wouldn't quit it.

She watched Miss Briefs' match closely. They were the only two girls and Ranfan hoped it wouldn't come down to the both of them. Fighting girls was difficult. They were wild and uncontrollable. You couldn't distract them with your ass. And this one in particular was said to be extremely cunning. She'd proved she'd brains when she took off her shirt. Ranfan was planning to do the same when the time came.

The only thing Ranfan couldn't understand was why the one and only Miss Bulma Briefs was participating of the Budokai. She had enough money to live her entire life without working a single day. What would she want the prize for?

Ranfan thought of the mess she was in. Johnny was expecting his payment by the end of the week. Otherwise she'd be cut off of the business. And that meant no more _fairy dust_. No more intense high, only the awful low. Ranfan couldn't have that. She wouldn't survive. Life sucked too bad to be lived without the fairy dust.

Her heart started to race and she felt that sudden rush of anxiety. It had been hours since her last fix. And there wouldn't be another without first place.

She glanced to the other side of the room where her first opponent sat on the ground meditating. He had been doing that for a long time now. She wondered if that meant he was strong and focused on the prize. That would make things harder. Ranfan couldn't deal with harder right now.

Her breathing became superficial and she tried to calm herself down. This was not the time to be paranoid. She _wanted_ to win. She _had_ to win. She was _going_ to win.

…...

To meditate, you must focus on one thing maximum. At last that's what Nam's master told him when they started practicing. He said it would be easy after a while and Nam would be able to turn off everything around him. But the pressure of his task was weighting him down and Nam couldn't forget the children of his village crying, begging their mothers to have another sip of water.

The goal of meditation was to focus and quiet you mind, eventually reaching a higher level of awareness and inner calm. But Nam had never been able to do quite that. And today it was even worse. There wasn't a simple thing for him to focus his attention on. The atmosphere in the room was that of animosity, something Nam always hated. He knew this people were here to win.

But so was he.

 _And in you, all the families of this desert shall be blessed_. His master's words echoed in Nam's head. He was here for a reason, something that couldn't be taken slightly. His people depended on his success. There was no room for failure. He had prepared his whole life for this.

Nam breathed deeply trying to slow his heart race but it was no use. His muscles wouldn't relax, his mind wouldn't focus. The memories threatened to crush his skull. Nam grimaced but kept his eyes shut.

People were dying right now. Babies in their mother's arms. Malnourished, starving. The barren region of the desert was merciless. The environment was harsh and the village's daily life was extraordinary poor. Water was scarce. If that wasn't enough torture, the heat made you want to die.

Nam shook his head slightly as if that would send the memories away. He couldn't bare to lose his mind now. He had to fight and he had to win. There was all that was. _In you the gentiles hope,_ his master had told him. And Nam would not let them down.

 _I will not let them down_.

…...

"Is everybody ready?" bellowed Stephen under the sound of applause. "Time for our next great match! I have to admit, folks, I've been waiting for this one. It's young against old! Let's cheer for competitors number three and four!"

Yamcha and Jackie Chun walked out there together. There didn't seem to be any hard feeling between the two of them. They were at ease.

"It's been good fifty years since the great Jackie Chun has gifted us with his presence, but I am sure those of you who were here remember him! My father fought him. He lost, of course, but-" Stephen cleared his throat. "Take your positions, gentlemen! And... _Start_!"

Yamcha prepared himself, but the old man didn't move. He stood perfectly erected, his hands behind his back, as if he had no concerns in the world. Yamcha wondered if the man was crazy or just pretty sure of himself. Either way, Yamcha would've to kick his ass.

He lunged forward and tried to kick Jackie in the face. Yamcha wasn't sure of what happened, but the man disappeared in thin air. Somehow, he was standing behind him and not at all where Yamcha had aimed his move. Yamcha turned around and tried for another attack that Chun dodged just as easily.

"The young lad has attacked quickly and fiercely," said Stephen, "but Chun has evaded all of them so far!"

"It seems," said the old man eyeing Yamcha with amusement, "that you cannot touch me. You are skilled and your movements are good, but this is a fight, boy, not a dancing contest."

Yamcha heard a growling sound coming from his own throat. He was asking for it. Yamcha was going to show him how the wolf got his prey. Yamcha shouted, "Rougahuhuken!", but somehow the old man was faster than him. He disappeared and the Wolf Slice Fist wasted a good portion of Yamcha's energy.

"In spite of the wolf's prowess as a hunter," said Chun, "the majority of its prey escapes."

With the corner of his eye, Yamcha saw Jackie Chun perform a few kartwheels and then the man was behind him. Yamcha didn't even feel the Chun's touch, but next thing he knew Yamcha was sent flying backwards until he hit the bleachers wall and slipped to the ground.

"Yamcha has fallen out of the ring!" boasted Stephen, the announcer. "Jackie Chun is the winner of the second match! What a sight! With his amazing speed, Chun's next opponent will have a tough time!"

Yamcha stood and walked up to Jackie Chun. He studied the old man in awe. Then he shook his head. "Your last move," he said, "I didn't see you. I didn't even feel it."

"That's because I didn't touch you," said Jackie, his hands still behind his back. "That was a manifestation of my energy, right from within. Someday, you'll get it."

Yamcha frowned, something about the old man was extremely familiar. "Don't I know you?" Jackie Chun guaranteed that he didn't. Yamcha wasn't so sure.

…...

"You should be enthusiastic, folks!" thundered Stephen. He felt extremely good. He was in all his glory, doing what he loved. He wished his father could see him now. "Both of the winners are known by you, people, and yet we know not what to expect from our third match!" Stephen smiled as they cheered. "Welcome, numbers five and six onto the ring! Come forward, both of you!"

Ranfan perked up and strut out there. It was hotter than she'd anticipated. That was good. Another boost to the male hormones. The Indian man came after her like he was marching to his execution. His dark skin shone under the sun light. His face was sallow, even more than her own and his dark eyes were pained. But she had no room for pity. Not today.

Nam watched the purple haired lady walking in front of him. She moved her hips from one side to the other. She was very small and very thin, and she reminded him of the women from his village. She sure did look hungry, but the look in her eyes were crazed.

"The third match, Nam versus Ranfan!" said Stephen. "Good luck to you both. You may begin!"

Ranfan stared at the sad man in front of her but she wasn't really paying attention to him. She was thinking of her last fix. Of the thrill, the excitement and how much she earned to feel that again. Her feelings always emerged suddenly (she had gotten quite used to it by now, that was the side effect of the _fairy dust_ ) but the anger that took hold of her hit her like a wrecking ball. She felt hostile, like a virus, like there was nothing human in her anymore.

She lunged at him like a tiger trying to scratch his eyes off. Her nails slashed his flesh and she felt the warmth of his blood, and she heard the guttural sound of his shout. She really had no fighting skills, but she had anger, and in that moment, nothing mattered more. She jumped on him and bit his neck.

"This is getting wild!" shouted Stephen.

Nam fell flat on his back, the pain taking control of him. He hadn't expected for her to lose her mind like that, she looked like a wild animal on top of him. When her teeth left his shoulder, Nam pushed her away with all his strength. Then he stood up, ready to attack. But the weirdest thing happened.

The purple haired woman shifted again. She sat on the ground, now looking like a wounded animal, and cried. "You hurt me!" she shouted and the Nam noticed the crowd went silent.

"Oh," said Stephen, "Nam has made the poor girl cry..."

Nam stared at the girl. _What was he supposed to do?_ Sure enough his master hadn't prepared him for a situation like _this_. He thought about apologizing, but her sobs were so loud he doubt she would even hear him.

A man yelled from the waiting room. "Go and make the sweet girl cry, why don't you?!" Nam turned around, it was the winner of the last match, the one called Chun.

Nam's stomach exploded in pain. Ranfan had stopped pretending to be in pain and punched him. Nam fell to his knees.

"Ranfan fooled us all!" exclaimed Stephen. "Now Nam has collapsed in pain!"

The pain brought him more memories. _The wells are dry,_ his father mumbled. _This is the end of our village, Nam. Our culture has died. We have no money, no where to go, no way to live._ "I swore I wouldn't let anyone get on my way..." whispered Nam so low he was surprised she had heard him. Her face turned a mixture of emotions, most of them he was unable to interpret. But she raised her fists, that was clear enough. "So did I," she said to him.

Both saw in each other's eyes the same thing – despair. In the same amount, in the same painful way. The only question was, how far were they willing to go to win this?


	6. The Lessons In Truth

**"When I was a young boy, my father took me into the city to see a marching band. He said, "Son, when you grow up, would you be the savior of the broken, the beaten and the damned? Will you defeat them, your demons, and all the non believers, the plans that they have made? Because one day, I'll leave you, a phantom to be lead you in the summer, to join the Black Parade." – My Chemical Romance**

…...

This was probably the greatest Budokai Tenkaichi Stephen had ever witnessed. And when he thought he had seen everything Ranfan went and surprised him again. She took of her clothes. Her underwear was pink and made of silk. It barely covered her. Her pale skin glittered. The crowd went insane. Nam tried to swallow.

In the waiting room, Jackie's jaw dropped. Oh, he had hoped for this, but not even in his wildest dreams did he think it would happen. The blue haired one had already show him a lot. He was very thankful. But this one was showing closely to everything.

"I love the Budokai," he muttered.

Yamcha watched Jackie Chun. He was sure he knew him. With that power and that perverted nature... his thoughts were going to a single direction. Could it be? And if so... why?

"That little harlot!" protested Bulma. After her match, Yamcha had made her sit down and drink a lot of water. She puked her breakfast on the floor and made him swear he wouldn't tell anyone. He'd just been glad she was trusting him whilst she was weak and vulnerable. Then he had lost his own match and she supported him the best way she knew – kill him with kisses. Yamcha couldn't complain. Now Bulma had her blue eyes narrowed and was looking at Ranfan as she would look to a kitchen rat. "What is she...? Yamcha! Look at me!" she slapped him in the back messing with his concentration.

"Bulma!" he said. "I wasn't-"

"How fresh!" continued Chun to no one in particular. "How beautiful! How-"

"Low," finished Bulma.

Suddenly Yamcha couldn't contain himself anymore. And he shouldn't really. He knew she wasn't going to laugh at him even if he sounded idiotic. "That's it," he snapped his fingers for effect.

"What?" Bulma demanded. "What did you do?" and she looked down on his pants.

"No!" he blushed. "Stop it. That's not what I meant. Come here," he took her arm and pulled her close. "Look at him. Jackie Chun."

"Why would I?" she crossed her arms. "Just another old pervert."

"No. That's what I'm trying to tell you. I think he's the same old pervert."

Bulma glanced at him, her eyes still narrowed. "What do you mean?"

Yamcha smirked. "He's master Roshi."

Bulma's eyes widened. "What? Why do you...? Are you sure? I mean, he shares a certain resemblance."

"Is it just me or this tournament has more nudity than most?" Stephen's voice boomed around the arena.

"You don't seem very comfortable," teased Ranfan. She took a step toward Nam and he almost immediately took a step away.

"Nam is in trouble!" declared Stephen. "A pretty lady is always trouble, gentlemen, I'm sure you will agree!"

"What's the matter?" insisted Ranfan, pouting. "Don't like what you see? Or are you running because you do like it?"

"What a development!" continued Stephen. "Ranfan undressed body seems to cause a certain effect on – well, who are we kidding? In all of us! Girls seem to enjoy taking their clothes off on this ring, don't they? Maybe I should bring a date next time!"

"I had no choice!" Bulma shouted from the waiting room. "And who are you kidding Stephen? The only woman who loves you is your mother!"

Stephen's face turned purple. "Now, now, Miss Briefs, surely there is no need for-"

Nam attacked, his eyes closed. He didn't do much. His palm hit Ranfan behind the neck and she collapsed on the floor unconscious. The crowed booed, but Nam didn't care. Stephen counted to ten and declared him the winner. That was all that mattered.

Jackie Chun rushed to the ring. "Stand aside," he said, "I'm a doctor!"

"Yeah, that's it," said Bulma. "With the way he jumped her, he's got to be Roshi."

Yamcha suddenly didn't seem so pleased. "You won't beat him," he said remembering she would have to fight him.

Bulma didn't seem to care. "Just promise me you won't let him touch me after he wins." Yamcha was happy to make that promise.

Nam pushed Jackie Chun away. He removed his cloak and covered Ranfan's body. He bore her no ill-will. He saw her despair as she had seen his. Both of them only did what they could. There would be no resentment for that, he hoped.

…...

"I have the honor of presenting the last two quarter-finalists. Number seven and eight," called Stephen. Then it began to rain. This kind of killed Stephen's buzz. Well, this and that little comment Miss Briefs made about his mother. That wasn't true _at all_!

Each step the Giras took made the ground tremble. Goku followed on his tracks excitedly. It was finally his turn. "I'm going to break you into little pieces," boomed the Giras.

The monk banged the gong and the fight started. Gilan approached with closed fists. Goku noticed how his size made him slow. The beast had sharp fangs, big wings, a pointy horn and a thick tail. Goku missed his tail. He hadn't thought about it for a long time, but now-

Gilan hit him in the face and Goku rolled to the edge of the ring. "Bad start," commented Stephen. "We give you credit though for making this far, Goku! What a fighter! Don't worry, folks! Semifinals are coming!"

 _A bad beginning makes a bad ending_ , Grandpa Gohan once said. Goku trusted everything his grandfather told him, but about this he wasn't quite sure. He stood up. The crowd went silent. Goku noticed Stephen, the announcer, staring at him with a funny expression. Nobody moved as if they were waiting for him to say something.

So he said the first thing that came to mind. "Upsie daisy!" The crowd went berserk.

"Incredible!" shouted Stephen. "Goku is back on his feet and he acts as if he didn't even feel the last blow! He's as good as new!"

 _You're exaggerating_ , thought Goku. He charged. Giran dodged his first attack, but then Goku punched him in the throat. As the mutant pterodactyl gagged, Goku went around him and grabbed his tail, then threw him as far away in the air as he could.

"Unbelievable! Young Goku has thrown his opponent, the giant Giras, into the sky! He is one, one stunning display of strength!"

As the spectators watched, Giran opened his wings and flew back to the ring. "I'm going to flatten you like a steamroller!"

Goku straightened up. "I don't know what that is."

"Giran seems bent on revenge," said Stephen, who was enjoying this the most. "And young Goku needs a dictionary!"

Suddenly, as Goku was about to attack, the Giras opened his mouth and spit a strange elastic rubbery purple gum like substance that encased Goku and wrapped tightly around his body.

"How did you do that?" shouted Goku. He struggled against the purple thing but it only seemed to make it tighter until he could barely move.

"Giran has done well against his adversary," noted Stephen, "it will be difficult for Goku to get out of this sticky situation!"

"You'll never break free," laughed the Giras watching Goku's efforts. "You're completely helpless... and at my mercy." The monster slapped Goku in the face. His paw was so large and so heavy, Goku's neck almost broke. Goku felt another hit and blood splashed from his nose.

He wasn't ready to lose this fight. He tried to focus on anything that might help him get out of that gum thingy. His grandpa would know what to do, he always did. He had an answer for everything. A tale, a lesson.

That was it. A _lesson_.

Once upon a time, Goku had found a Chinese Finger Trap and his fingers got stuck inside it. No matter what he did, he couldn't remove his fingers and for several hours he worried he would've to live with that.

Then his grandpa found him. He told Goku that thing was an excellent remedy for curiosity. He said while Goku tried to remove his fingers, it would only shrink and tighten. _There's no way you can pull free by struggling_ , he told Goku. _You don't fight against the handcuffs. You push your fingers in, not out. That loosens the braid._

Goku saw Giran preparing to hit him again and decided to try for time. "Can't we talk about this instead?" he pleaded.

"How about a punch in the face instead?" said the beast raising a fist.

"Isn't a peaceful solution more appealing?" Goku stood perfectly still trying not to worry about the next hit. He felt something stirring inside of him. A feeling he was familiar with but couldn't quite tell what it was. The purple thing slipped from his relaxed limps and fell on the ground.

Giran seemed shocked. "How did you...?"

"Great job, Goku!" said Stephen. "But what the hell...?"

There was a collective gasp and once more the crowd went quiet. Everyone stared at Goku like he was from outer space. "What?" Then he saw what it was. A smile formed on his face. Goku looked up and saw Yamcha and Bulma staring at him from the waiting room, both of them with dreaded expressions on their faces.

"My tail is back!" he announced.

Bulma shook her head. "That's not good."

"What are you, boy?" demanded Giran.

"I'm the one who's winning this match." Goku charged and kicked Giran on the stomach. The beast fell and Goku kicked him again. And again. And again. Until the Giras begged him to stop.

"I give up," he said. When Goku stopped hitting him, Giran stood up with shaky legs and flew away.

"Goku is the winner!" bellowed Stephen. "Giran has threw in the towel! Amazing! Spectacular! What a fantastic match! Our youngest contestant has had a remarkable performance!"

Bulma and Yamcha exchanged a look. "When is the next full moon?" he asked hesitantly.

"You don't want to know."

…...

Goku, Bulma, Jackie Chun and Nam were invited to stand on the ring with Stephen who looked baffled but excited. The crowd was silent in expectation. "I have to say," began Stephen, "no one has ever given up during the quarter-finals. This is unprecedented in the history of the World Martial Arts Tournament!"

Bulma leaned over Goku and whispered, "I can't believe your tail has grown back! What is wrong with you Goku?"

He glanced at her surprised. "It's not like I did it on purpose! It just happened."

"It's disgusting and it probably means trouble! You should take it off while you can!"

"Are you daft? When will you stop envying my tail, Bulma?"

They turned to find Stephen watching them. "You two seem to know each other. Are you two together?"

Bulma crossed her arms over her chest. "I suggest you focus on your job, Stephen," she mumbled.

Stephen looked flushed but he chose to ignore her. "I congratulate all of you." He stared at Bulma as if the last thing he wanted to do was congratulate her. "So much talent in here today! And the young one... see, we all know how old Miss Briefs really is," he said unkindly, "but what about you, Goku?" he shoved the microphone in Goku's face before Bulma could use to say anything else.

"Is that for me?" Goku eyed the microphone suspiciously.

Bulma nudged him. "You're supposed to talk onto it."

"Why?"

"Because! Now stop embarrassing yourself and answer the freaking question."

"Okay, okay..." mumbled Goku. "I'll be sixteen soon."

"Except in his head," bickered Bulma. "In there he's five."

Stephen made a weird sound that could've been a laugh. "Well, Goku, what we all want to know here is how come you have a tail? How does that work?"

Goku's face brightened up. "I'll show you." Before anyone could move, he put down his pants and was about to performance some stand-ups with his tail when Bulma slapped his head. "What?"

"Cover yourself!" she hissed.

Goku pulled his pants back up.

Stephen was incredibly uncomfortable now. "All right, folks! Guess we didn't see that coming!" The crowd cheered and laughed. "And... And your uniform..." he continued. "That's the Turtle Hermit's symbol you're wearing, Goku. Have you trained with him?"

"Yes."

The crowd went 'OOH!'

"We didn't know Master Roshi was still training disciples. Good to know, good to know. I guess we're no longer surprised about how strong you are, Goku. We're now surprised Master Roshi's still alive!" The crowd laughed.

Jackie Chun stepped forward and took the microphone from Stephen's hand. "Hello, ladies," he boomed. "I am Jackie Chun! Like Laozi once said, 'Those who know do not say and those who say do not know.' Meaning, maybe we should all shut up and continue with this tournament. Don't you think so, Stephen?"

Stephen grimaced. These people had no respect. "Gimme that," he said taking his microphone back. If what Laozi said was true, then maybe Stephen was simply focusing on the wrong people. He turned to the one who hadn't said a word. "Nam," he said. "What about you? What are you doing here?"

The man looked at Stephen with tired eyes. "I'm here to save my people." And that was all he said.

With a sigh, Stephen dismissed them. This interview was going nowhere.

…...

Yamcha refused to live the room for the contestants and even hid from one of the monks who tried to send him away. He stayed watching the others from a dark corner and when Jackie Chun came back from the interview, Yamcha cornered him.

"Have you happened to see master Rushi around?"

The old man didn't even blink. "Nah."

"Really?" insisted Yamcha. "So you haven't looked in the mirror lately?"

That made him come to a halt. "What?"

"Don't play fool with me. You heard me. You are Muten Roshi."

Jackie Chun chuckled. "I wish I were so lucky."

Yamcha felt his temper rising. "I know you're Roshi! Every since you turned up, Roshi has disappeared! The only thing I want from you, is to know why? Why are you doing this? Tell me the truth!"

Chun stared at him with cold gray eyes. "You want the truth, boy? Here it is. I'm Jackie Chun." And he strode away before Yamcha could argue or punch him in the face.


	7. The Kindness Of Strangers

"You're very pretty, I must say," said Jackie Chun. Bulma thought he was trying to distract her.

"You mustn't for I already know that." She took a deep breath and charged. _Focus on your legs_ , she reminded herself. _You have very strong legs, Bulma_. She kicked him high and kicked him low, but Chun kept dodging her moves. Thank Kamisama she had trained hard her entire life. She could throw around fifteen kicks under a minute.

When she stopped to catch her breath, she noticed his eyes were wider than before. "You are a very extraordinary young woman," he praised her. Against her better judgment, Bulma felt pleased. Then his palm slammed against her nose and she felt warm blood all over her face.

"That was a hard on right in the face!" exclaimed Stephen and Bulma hated how happy he sounded.

Jackie lunged towards her. He tried to kick her and that lowered his guard. Bulma raised her small fist but Jackie opened his mouth and tried to lick her hand. She retrieved it disgusted. Jackie kicked her in the stomach and Bulma stumbled backwards.

 _This is not working_ , she thought. _But I will not be defeated so easily_.

Bulma straightened her back, shoulders back, boobs forward. Very subtly, she ran a finger down her neckline but he noticed and followed with his eyes. Bulma lunged and with one hand on the ground for support she shoved both her legs into his torso.

"This is a truly fabulous fight!" chanted Stephen and once again Bulma wished he would just shut the hell up.

Jackie's breathing turned superficial but Bulma didn't think he was tired, she thought he was mad. She raised her fists and tried to prepare for what would come next, but it was useless. She didn't even see him coming.

She felt his hand around her neck. Then a stupendous force knocked her backwards and she ended up flat on her back. Her head had hit the ground and the pain threatened to explode her skull. But with the corner of her eyes, she saw Jackie turning his back and walking away.

Her anger made her throat tightened. "Don't you walk away from me!" She struggled to a sitting position. Chun watched her with interest.

"Are you going to stand up?" he asked.

"In a minute," she said. Her efforts were mostly emotion, but she knew her legs wouldn't obey her. She knew the fight was over. She was not standing up. Stephen must've seen that because he started to count. Bulma crossed her arms and legs, and lifted her chin with as much dignity as she could muster.

Jackie came toward her and knelt on the ground. "You've had enough," he told her. "You can't fight anymore."

As swift as a river, Bulma slapped him in the face. "I can still do that," she grinned. "Okay, I'm out," she announced. People cheered. Jackie stood and helped her up. He had a smile on his face.

"What talent!" boasted Stephen. "These contestants are really something!"

…...

In the waiting room, Bulma sat on a table while Yamcha cleaned the blood from her face. She flinched when he made pressure on her nose. She doubted it was broken, but it was hurting like hell.

Goku beamed at her. "You were so good! I didn't know you could do that with your legs!"

"Hey! There's nothing I can't do with my legs!" she protested. "But I am too pretty. I shouldn't be getting hit in the face."

"She speaks only the truth," commented Jackie from a corner.

"You did spectacularly," said Yamcha. He had very soft hands for a fighter. "Specially when you consider you were fighting master Roshi."

"What?" said Goku.

"Why do you keep saying that?" mumbled Chun.

"Can't you recognize his smell?" Yamcha asked Goku.

The boy shook his head. "There's something covering up his scent, if it's really him."

"I do wear a lot of cologne," admitted Jackie. "I'm a gentleman."

Bulma saw the three of them were ready to have a long discussion about this. "Shut up!" she hissed before any of them could speak. "My head hurts." No one dared speak.

…...

"And now, ladies and gentlemen, let's welcome back the amazingly strong Goku and Nam, a man who's come from far away to beat the odds! Yes! Which of them will you be cheering? Which of this two will be fighting Jackie Chun in the final match for the world title?"

Nam charged. Goku dodged and tried to kick him. Nam stepped away just as quickly. Then he returned with speed, but Goku saw him coming and circled him.

"Have you seen that?" exclaimed Yamcha who was watching from the waiting room. "Goku has all your skill and speed," he told Jackie Chun.

The old man nodded. "But Nam is doing extraordinarily as well."

Goku delivered a series of quick punches at the height of Nam's chest. He had to admit, the Indian man had much more spirit than the Giras ever shown. Goku could see how this tournament was important to the man, he had a lot depending on this. That made him a much better adversary. That excited Goku.

Something was awaken inside the man. With a look of pure despair, Nam came toward Goku, grabbed him by the shoulders, punched him three times in the stomach, two more in the head, and then kicked him away.

"What a spectacular array of counter attacks!" shouted the announcer.

Goku went flying and almost fell off the ring. He lied on the ground clutching his stomach. It was hurting too bad, but Nam's hits seemed to have opened Goku's appetite. He was suddenly starving.

"Get up, you monkey trash!" he heard Bulma shouting. He assumed she meant well.

Goku stood up. Nam grimaced. He realized the kid might be stronger and more skilled than he was, but he couldn't allow him to win. People were hungry. People were dying. He was going to save them all. He couldn't fail.

There was only one solution. An aerial attack. Nam focused his energy and jumped as high as the sky.

"What a majestic leap!" wailed Stephen. "Never seen anything like it! Look how high he's gone!"

Nam turned around in the air and came down headfirst. _Forgive me_ , he thought. _I must win for my people_. Goku was too surprised to move. Nam's body slammed with his at full speed. Goku fell on the ground and felt Nam's arm crushing his windpipe. Goku choked and for the most terrible moment he couldn't breath. The air wouldn't reach his lungs.

Nam stood. The crowd was silently watching. "Time for you to count," he told the announcer.

Stephen blinked. "Right. One. Two. Three..."

Jackie Chun shook his head. "No one can get up after being hit like that. It's over."

"No!" argued Bulma, her voice full of emotion. "Goku can. He will. Just you wait."

Yamcha held her hand. "Bulma, he's-"

"He'll get up, Yamcha!" she insisted. Stephen kept counting. "He'll get up."

Goku coughed and gagged, still fighting for air.

"Seven," said Stephen. "Eight."

"GOKU, GET UP!" shouted Bulma. The surprising thing was, he did. Goku stood up massaging his throat.

"That hurt," he said, his voice hoarse. Bulma cheered like a mad person.

That was Nam's strongest attack. The victim wasn't supposed to wake for another ten days. It was impossible. It was inconceivable. What was the boy made of?

"Fantastic!" yelled Stephen. "After that terrible hit, Goku seems to be barely hurt! If I hadn't seen it with my own eyes, I'd never have believed it!"

Nam had no choice. He tried the same attack once more. But Goku was ready this time. When Nam jumped, he followed and the two of them met in the air. Goku's foot hit Nam so hard in the back, the poor Indian man went flying sideways and fell on the ground outside the platform.

"He – He won!" announced Stephen. "Goku has won! Nam is out! A fifteen years old goes to the final for the first time in this tournament! Stupendous! Marvellous! This kid hasn't stopped amazing us! Folks, prepare yourselves for our final match! Son Goku versus Jackie Chun!"

Bulma clapped and jumped up and down. "I discovered this kid!" she kept shouting.

"He did it," said Yamcha in awe. "I'll be damned."

"What a fight!" continued Stephen. "What a match the final will be!"

"I take my hat off to that kid," added Yamcha.

"Yes," agreed Chun. "He is a remarkable young man. To accomplish what he has at this age it is really extraordinary."

Nam stood up and congratulated the boy. He couldn't bare to have any hard feelings. It was right. It was fair. The boy couldn't know what he had done, the people he had condemned. "It was a honor to fight you," he told him.

Goku shook his hand. "You too."

"This is the most exciting Budokai!" declared Stephen. "And it's all boiled down to two amazing fighters – Jackie Chun and Son Goku! But before the match you've all been waiting for, we're going to have a ten minute break! Gotta keep our fighters hydrated!"

…...

Nam prepared to leave. There was nothing else he could do. The shame was crushing him, but he had no choice. He tried to tell himself he had done nothing but what he could. But that didn't help.

The old man, Jackie Chun, came after him calling his name. Nam turned. What was happening now?

"That was a great match you fought," the old man said.

That was the last thing Nam wanted to hear. "It was not enough," he said. "Not enough greatness. I lost."

"Yes," agreed Chun. "But failure is the mother of success, boy. Don't you forget that. And now, won't you stay and watch the final match?"

Nam shook his head. "No use, is there? Besides, it's getting dark and I have problems I need to attend to."

"Here. Catch." Jackie threw a small capsule and Nam caught it.

"A _hoi-poi_ capsule?"

"An empty one," said the old man. "That way you can fill it up with anything you want. A man can transport a great quantity of water in this capsule if needed. But that's just an example."

Nam's jaw dropped. "How did you...? How do you know of my problems?"

Jackie had a funny look in his face. "The mind is just like an open book, Nam. There is a way to read it, if one knows where to look."

Nam couldn't believe this. "Who are you really?"

"I am Kamesennin," admitted the old man.

"Why are you competing in disguise?"

"Because, the boy who defeated you is my disciple. He trained with me for a very short period of time and yet became amazingly strong, as you might have noticed. He is a wild thing and he had great potential. I brought him here, as I did every other one of my students before him, so I can fight him, like I did with the others."

Nam tried to understand that. "You fight your own disciples? Why? Shouldn't you be proud just to watch him?"

"Oh, I am," said Kamesennin. "But then again they are so young when they come to me. Just boys. Not ready to win a tournament like this one. They'd end up thinking they are the greatest in the world and that's not good for them. It's not good for him. Goku has tremendous powers, but he needs to understand he is far from being the greatest. He's too young to think himself as the best when he hasn't seen nothing of the world. He needs to understand that's he's not the only one who's good. There are stronger people around, there is always going to be, and he must learn how to lose to learn how to try again." Jackie Chun paused and smiled. "So, Nam, I don't want Goku to know how great he really is. Not now. Not yet."

Nam understood then. "It was a honor to meet you, Kamesennin, but I cannot take your capsule. I have no money to buy water anyway."

Jackie refused to take the capsule back. He leaned closer to Nam as if to tell him a secret. "What if I were to tell you, my friend, that you are in one of the richest cities of the world? There's a well in almost every street and the water is free. It is communal. You can take as much as you want."

Nam's heart raced. "Free, you said?"

"Free as the air you breathe."


End file.
